Brotherly Love
by GlitterTech
Summary: If your brother has an older brother that isn't your brother, shouln't that make your brother's older brother your older brother anyway? A little ditty about FACE family, and how they're really not a family. Semi-cracky.


_**Originally posted July 1, 2011**_

**Title**: Brotherly Love

**Author**: TechnoGlitter

**Rating**: T

**Characters/Pairings**: France, America, Canada, Britain, and Hungary. Implied Frangleterre

**Warning**: Swearing, stalker-esqe tendencies, OOC, implied sexy-times, disgusting historical inaccuracy

**Disclaimer**: I am not Hima-papa-san-tousan-chan; therefore I do not own Hetalia.

**Notes**: HAPPY CANADA DAY, MAY CANADA BE WITH YOU! I would totally be wearing my bitching Canada sweatshirt right now, except its 98 degrees here in Kansas._** You can start ignoring this sentence, right here: **_Since I like two ideas but the writing sucks, I'm post TWO stories featuring Canada, to make up for it. Wait, if - + - = - … NOOO!

"Britain!"

"Yes America?" Britain looked up from his book. The little colony put a hand on his hip and pointed the other one at his big brother.

"We need to talk! And I won't take 'no' for an answer!" Britain chuckled and moved closer to America, leaning down until he was eye level with him.

"Well then Alfred, what do you want to talk about?"

"Not here! In the living room!" America demanded, grabbing the Brit's hand and dragging him to the living room. Canada was leaning in the door, holding baby Kumakachiko.

"Did you get him?" America asked gravely. Canada, sucking on a lollipop, nodded just-as-gravely. America led Britain into the room, fussing over him in an effort to get him to sit next to France on the sofa.

"Do you know what this is about?" Britain asked cautiously. France laughed.

"No, Canada just cried until I agreed to come in!" A slight cough from in front of the two brought their attention to the colonies sitting in front of them on the floor.

"Canada and I have been talking lately, and we have come to an agreement," America said, gesturing wildly while Canada mimicked and echoed him, "that you two clearly do not understand how to good caretakers."

Two sets of eyebrows, one large and caterpillar-esqe and one perfectly shaped and French, rose considerably.

"When you take us out to… eat or go to the market or whatever, we always see those happy families. The ones with parents who are always happy and pleasant and don't get kicked out of stores for destroying four shelves of merchandise. And the mum is always kind and giving and she holds onto her husband's arm, and the daddy is always nice and funny and a gentleman." Both Canada and America sighed wistfully, staring at a spot on the wall about three feet to the left of France's head.

"But when other families go out, they see… us. Those two boys with two daddies who get into fights so much they're not allowed into fourteen stores, three apothecaries and a schoolhouse. The 'mum' is always making fun of the daddy and shoving his face into pastries and tripping him, and the daddy is always swearing and insulting the 'mum' and we can't make friends because people are scared of our two daddies!" France and Britain blushed as their colonies stared into that special spot on the wall.

"Why am I the 'mum'? If anything, I should be the daddy!" France shouted. America and Canada looked at him and cocked their heads. It sounded especially eerie (and depressing for France) when they spoke at the same time.

"Because you dress and cook and act like the mum," the little blondes echoed. The Frenchman harrumphed and crossed his arms and legs as the Brit next to him failed to hold in his giggles.

"But that's not what we're worried and upset about. There is something else that's bothering us, and making us a little bit sad. We're upset that you don't love each other."

"… What?" The two Europeans on the couch stared in shock. The boys started speaking with renewed vigor.

"Mummies and daddies and supposed to love each other, and support each other, and have 'special time' alone together! When ours don't, we get quite sad and sometimes we consider running away!" The statement ended with two clutched fists and four closed eyes.

The countries on the couch were too busy with their face-eating blushes to respond to that statement, so after a quick elbow fight that France won, Britain had to step up to the plate.

"Okay boys, so we know where you got that 'love and support' bit, but _who_ told you about the… alone time?" Britain's flush just worsened as he spoke.

"Oh, that nice woman Miss Hungary. The last time she came over, she told us all about what two daddies are supposed to be like. We weren't surprised when you didn't meet her standards. And then she asked us if you two ever went up to your rooms together, or if it sounded like you were fighting upstairs. We told her about a few times, and then she assured us that you weren't fighting, you were just playing a 'special grown-up game.'" France fell back against the couch and bemoaned the bad fortune of sharing a continent with that 'wretched woman' while Britain cursed under his breath and kneaded his temples.

"Okay, so first off-" Britain started, only to get interrupted by France.

"Never listen to anything Hungary says about us. Ever!"

"And… we're sorry that you've been feeling this way, but you have to understand that we're not like those other families, or the… couples Hungary talked about," Britain stuttered.

"As nations, our relationships are very different. We're not your parents, because we didn't –oh god- _make you_. We're your older brothers, and just because we live in the same house, we don't have that familial relationship normal people do," France explained, shuddering.

"Nations have a lot of different standards than humans, like the times we gave you your names. Canada, remember how you were so excited that you told immediately told America he could call you anything he wished? Then, America insisted that you should call him 'Alfie?'" All four blondes smiled at the memory.

"A-and now that you've told us, we'll try our best to be… better for you. We made the ultimate decision to live together because we though it wasn't a good idea to split you two up. I guess we made the right decision…" Britain trailed off. America nodded firmly.

"Oh, you did. If we had been separated, we would've cried until we were back together. And we're very good criers," America and Canada said stubbornly.

France and Britain fidgeted awkwardly on the couch. America and Canada stared dolefully at their caretakers.

France jumped randomly. "What… are you two waiting for?"

"Show us that you love each other."

"Damn it, we already talked about-" Britain was cut off by America and Canada shaking their little heads.

"No, not that way. We're brothers, and you're our older brothers, so that should make you brothers too!" America gestured to Canada to stop talking.

"No matter how many times I trip over Mattie because I didn't know he was there, or how many times Mattie accidentally pushes me into walls and tables because he didn't know I didn't know he was there, we still love each other. Like brothers. We want you to do that too," America implored. He turned to his brother, who was busy with Kumajiichan, smiled sweetly, and kissed him on the cheek. Canada smiled dreamily, then turned to his brother and did the same, popping his loudly and purposefully. Two sets of stunning blue (-ishy purple in one's case) eyes turned themselves onto the older nations, and waited.

Britain decided to take initiative, hovering close to France's face.

"Just do it Britain," he mumbled, not moving his head. Britain leaned in closer, closer, and brushed France's cheek lightly. France them grabbed Britain's blushing head, and left an enthusiastic wet mark on his cheek.

"Okay, now that that's done with," France said hurriedly, clapping his hands together and _certainly_ not blushing like crazy, "how about we have some brunch, I'm cooking!" As America and Canada gave generic cheers of agreement, France and Britain left the room. A brunette shadow detached itself from the wall and placed a hand on each of the children's heads.

"Did we do well, Miss?" They deadpanned, their joined hands swinging lightly between them.

"Oh, you did wonderfully boys," Hungary murmured, a deranged look in her eyes, "so have a cookie and go join your brothers in the kitchen!" she laughed. They took their treats and ran to the kitchen, screaming because they felt like it and because, for the moment, they were a pretty happy family.

DAS ENDE

_If you didn't think of The Shining twins at that last bit, I will steal your vital regions in the dead of night and give them all to Prussia._


End file.
